


Developing weird associations

by bloodandcream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medical Kink, Weecest, also Dean is a naughty little thief, and theres high on pain meds induced confessions, blow jobs on a hospital bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 16:07:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3073958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam rocked up against him, his gimp arm laying still in it’s cast on the bed while his other flailed out and settled on the back of Dean’s head. Dean briefly thought that if he kept kissing Sam’s boo boos better with the smell of alcohol and blood in the air, he was going to develop some really fucking weird associations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Developing weird associations

“I don’t need to go the ER.”

“Goddamit, you were out cold for more than a minute and I know you’ve got some broken bones.”

“It’s fine Dean.”

“It’s not fucking fine, we’re going to the hospital and that’s fucking final.”

“Dean -“

“Shut up Sammy.”

Dean jerked the wheel, silently apologizing to his baby, as he sped towards the nearest hospital his phone guided him to. Sam only groaned once more in protest before Dean heard his head thunking against the window. 

“Sammy, stay with me, you gotta stay conscious.”

“I am, De, god, just, tired s’all.”

“Sammy.”

“Yeah.”

The car lurched sideways as Dean sped up to pass someone, only a few more blocks to the big bright signs of the hospital. It was just a standard salt and burn, an angry ghost, and their dad had trusted just Dean and Sam to it. Dean wasn’t sure how long it would be until dad came back to this shit hole of a town, and he was hoping beyond hope that if anything was so broken it needed a cast, that they could get that taken off before he did make it back. Because Dean did not even want to think about how bad their dad would ream his ass for getting Sam hurt like that. 

Tossed against a grave stone like a fucking rag doll. Dean could still hear the snap. 

At least it was summer break and Sam didn’t have school. He should definitely be healed up by the time senior year starts. Explaining injuries to school teachers was never easy. 

Parking sideways in the ER lot, Dean wrenched the keys out and ran to Sam’s door to prop him up and half drag him in to the hospital. 

 

-

A slew of tests, some shit they wouldn’t let Dean into the room for, and several hours later saw Sam bandaged with a cast all the way up his arm and reclining in a hospital bed getting high on pain medications. Dean was allowed to stay in the room with him here at least. The doctors were reviewing something or another before discharging him. 

Dean peered out the door down the hall both ways before he knelt in front of one of the cabinets in the room and started picking the flimsy lock on it. 

“De, Deeeee, whassat?”

Sam must have gotten the good stuff.

“Just stocking up while we’re here.”

Dean opened the cupboard easily and started rummaging around, stuffing suture kits, gauze pads, iodine, anything he knew the use for into the large pockets of his leather jacket. 

“Thas’ smart.”

“Uh-huh.”

Going through a few more cupboards, Dean stuffed his coat as much as he could without being too obvious. Sam had started laughing on the bed, his one good arm fiddling with the flimsy robe he was wearing. 

“De, De, I gotta, gotta tell you a secret.”

“You know, you should probably just keep your mouth closed when you’re high on pain meds, twerp.”

“Whatever, jerk, is important.”

Checking to make sure everything was in order, Dean turned and sat on the bed gingerly next to Sam. The whole right side of his face was one massive bruise. He reached out with his good arm and clutched at Dean’s jacket. 

“De, I, I love you man.”

Dean could help smiling just a little, his brother was always the sappy one - grumpy sure, and stubborn as hell, but a sappy fucker. Go figure he’d be all hippy dippy happy high on pain meds. 

“Yeah, I know baby boy. You know I love you too.”

It didn’t really count that he was saying that now. Sam was high. He might remember this. Probably not. 

“No, but, I really, really do, Dean, like seriously, really.”

“I know Sammy.”

“I love kissing you.”

Dean felt heat rising in his cheeks, even though they were alone in here. Maybe it’s because dad was always in the back of his head. He always heard his father, and how sick was that, but he still did what he wanted with his brother. 

“Yeah, let’s stick to the not talking when high rule.”

“No, no, but, it’s important. I gotta, you gotta know.”

Dean shrugged Sam’s hand off his jacket, but moved to cover it with his own.

“I know, just, fucking, shut up Sam.”

“You know, you’re like, my dad, Dean, more than dad, you’re really, it’s like, you’re my real dad.”

“What?”

“Don’t, don’t sound like that. See, what I, what I’m tryin t’say.”

“Sammy, don’t.”

“No. I just. You’re like my real dad, but I still wanna, I like to kiss you, and suck your cock.”

“Jesus, Sammy.”

“S’that fucked up?”

“What about us isn’t fucked up?”

“No but like, you’re my brother, but you’re my dad too, and you’re really hot, like seriously -“

“Okay, that is definitely more than enough. You want me to gag you or something?”

Sam took that moment to burst into a fit of giggles.

“Goddamit.”

Sam only laughed harder. 

Dean slapped his hand over Sam’s mouth. The brat just started licking his hand. Okay, so Dean was a terrible older brother and he was thinking about shutting Sam up with his cock. Frankly, that was probably what Sam was thinking too and why he was laughing so goddam hard. 

They were in the middle of the hospital waiting for a doctor to come back. Sam’s arm was broken, he was bruised and probably concussed still, high on pain meds. It was not supposed to be a sexy situation. It smelled like antiseptic and bleach, just barely like the ever present stench of sickness that permeated everything in a hospital but covered with layers of sanitization. Dean’s pockets were stuffed with filched medical supplies. Sam was fidgeting under his hospital robe. 

It wasn’t a sexy situation. 

Only, it kind of was. 

Dean really liked how open Sam was. He might pretend like he didn’t - ok it made him completely fucking uncomfortable - but even though it made him squirm, when Sam kept wanting to talk about how much he loved Dean, it still settled warm in his chest. He liked how receptive Sam was. 

Maybe he felt like a creep - he totally felt like that - and that he would be taking advantage of his brother. But, if he did something for Sam, that wasn’t really exploiting him right, if it was for Sam, not for Dean. Totally. That would totally not be crossing boundaries. 

Dean bent over and replaced his hand with his mouth. Sam kept licking, uncoordinated and sloppy and giggling still. He was messy, but Dean could feel his smile. He kissed his brother and let his hand slide down the thin cotton robe until it bumped against a rapidly filling cock that twitched eagerly. 

“Sammy, if I give you something you want, you gonna be quiet for me?”

Sam’s mouth opened, closed, opened, before he settled for vigorously shaking his head. Damn, he was serious. 

Dean cupped his cheek, rubbing his thumb against the spit slick swell of Sam’s lower lip, his brother closing his lips around it and sucking. 

“That’s a good boy.”

Sam whimpered and pushed his hips against Dean’s hand, his brow creasing as he pouted his mouth around Dean’s thumb.

“Shhh, baby boy, you know I love you. I’ll take care of you.”

Dean pulled his thumb out, running his hand down the lean length of Sam’s torso. The fucking bean sprout had already gotten taller than Dean, though Dean could still beat him at sparring matches. 

Pushing the hem of his little blue gown up to his waist, Sam’s cock was hard and beading with pre come. Dean hadn’t even laid his hands straight on it yet. He licked his lips and almost nervously glanced up to the door before kneeling one knee on the bed and leaning over. Still half on the floor, fully clothed, he splayed his hands on Sam’s slender hips and put his mouth on his brother’s cock. 

Sam rocked up against him, his gimp arm laying still in it’s cast on the bed while his other flailed out and settled on the back of Dean’s head. Dean briefly thought that if he kept kissing Sam’s boo boos better with the smell of alcohol and blood in the air, he was going to develop some really fucking weird associations. 

He didn’t really care though. He was on the edge of exhausted after the adrenaline from the hunt and a mad car ride to the hospital had worn down, with hours waiting on uncomfortable er seats with a stale cup of vending coffee. But he was getting jittery again. The doctor could come in at any minute, and although he didn’t know that Sam and Dean were brothers thanks to fake names, it was still probably frowned upon to give someone a blow job on the hospital beds.

Dean looked up over the stretch of rumpled blue to see Sam’s wide dilated eyes watching him, hungry and devoted and in awe. God, that fucking look in Sam’s eyes was addictive. Swirling his tongue around the head, Dean teased his brother with little kitten licks to his cock and bobbed down just past the head before pulling back to tongue at the slit of his cock. One hand still firm on Sam’s bony hip, the other came up to fist at the base of Sam’s cock while Dean worked down on it, letting his spit slip down the length and slick it for his fingers to jack slow up the length as he sucked the head. 

Sam tasted sweaty, earthy rich, and Dean swore he could still smell rot and gasoline on the boy, but it was something familiar by now. Something welcome. Something that was just them, part of their own private world, and the sick things they wanted together. 

Leaning further onto the bed, hunched sideways, Dean sucked Sam’s cock down further when his brother started clenching his fist hard in Dean’s hair. Messy, noisy, loud squelch of spit and fingers and lips, Dean moved his free hand to cupping Sam’s balls as he sucked most of the way down. Dean may have some slight inferiority issues - ok, maybe, definitely - but goddam why did he get to be so tall with a monster cock when Dean was the big brother. It wasn’t fair. At least Dean still got to enjoy his cock. 

Dean was working his neck, tongue rubbing faster than his lips could move, fondling Sam’s balls and sucking like a whore getting paid, when he heard the click of the door. He kept going. The door clicked again and Sam was babbling incoherently as he bucked his hips up and pushed Dean down forcefully until he was gagging on it, coming down the back of his throat before slumping lifeless onto the bed. 

Swallowing and pulling up, wiping excess spit and come on the back of his hand, Dean yanked his brother’s hospital gown back down before he stood from the bed and made his way over to the door. Sam was smiling dopily and flushed, looking nothing like a seventeen year old with a broken arm spending his night in the hospital after digging up a corpse. 

Dean opened the door and peered out to find a flustered doctor fiddling with his clipboard several paces from the door. 

“So uh, those test results done, doc?”

“Yes, aherm, are you ah, shall I come in?”

“Yeah. Yeah, we’re good.”


End file.
